


i'm taking this moment with me

by poesword



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 80s jpop fueled this, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hair Dyeing, M/M, Pining, Punk Yamaguchi Tadashi, Third Year Tsukishima Kei, Third Year Yamaguchi Tadashi, author's never been kissed and it shows, google docs crashed 5 times while i wrote this, if tsukki seems too smooth thats bc this is in yamaguchi's pov and hes biased, like lowkey he’s in his early stage but it’s Starting, rly more like hair bleaching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:33:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29416437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poesword/pseuds/poesword
Summary: kei meets his eyes in the mirror. understanding, no judgement. his fingers idly play with his hair.“ready?”tadashi breathes in. an intoxicating mix of developer and bleach powder makes his eyes water.“i-i guess.”
Relationships: Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 1
Kudos: 68





	i'm taking this moment with me

**Author's Note:**

> happy valentines day!! <3  
> (title from pretty boy by the nbhd)

Tadashi sits with the back of the chair at his chest, facing the smudged mirror that is cracked in one corner and being held together with duct tape in another. The counter space surrounding the sink is covered, mostly by sparkly barrettes, a chipped comb, several unopened bottles of dye, and the plastic bowl containing Tadashi’s current obstacle. Music spills out of the cracked phone perched on the edge of the too-small bathtub, echoing off the tiles and buzzing under Tadashi’s fuzzy socks.

Behind him, Kei sets his knee down on the chair and leans around Tadashi’s shoulders to collect every strand of hair. His breath catches but Kei moves back, unaware, brows furrowed in concentration while he twirls a hairbrush in one hand.

Kei brushes through Tadashi’s hair, long enough now that it touches his shoulders when straightened, and then he parts it at the centre. Twisting the top half of his hair, Kei clips it in a loose bun that hangs over Tadashi’s forehead. He runs through the rest of Tadashi’s hair, his fingers ever so gently brushing the back of his neck, prying goosebumps and a shiver against his will. 

Kei meets his eyes in the mirror. Understanding, no judgement. His fingers idly play with his hair.

“Ready?”

Tadashi breathes in. An intoxicating mix of developer and bleach powder makes his eyes water. He bows his head, blinking tears away.

He says, “I-I guess.”

A small tug at his hair. A murmur by his ear.

“Don’t worry. It’ll look good on you.”

Tadashi’s blush only deepens when Kei leans forward once more, this time to grab the bowl and pair of gloves, and he briefly entertains the idea of melting into the fuzzy mat beneath him, becoming one with his mismatched socks. 

With a snap of the gloves, Kei skips the next few songs until his phone settles on one he likes. With the first few notes in, Tadashi is already rolling eyes, the corners of his lips curling upwards.

“Seriously?”

“Shut up, Yamaguchi––”

“Yeah, yeah––”

“It’s a _good_ song––”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t!”

“You’re just jealous.”

“Of _what_?!”

“That I have better taste than you.”

Tadashi’s head knocks back into Kei’s chest, shoulders shaking as his laughter overpowers the 80s Jpop. Kei bites back a grin, tugging at Tadashi’s hair and kneeing him in the side. He only laughs more.

“Kinda rich that you’re laughing at me when I’m the one holding the _toxic_ chemicals here.”

The threat is empty but Tadashi composes himself within seconds.

Kei splits the hair into four sections, pinning three of them out of the way. He waits for Tadashi’s eyes to meet his in the mirror, giving a short nod, before applying the bleach to the small section.

Tadashi lets out his breath once the entire section is covered. He hands Kei the piece of foil and cringes at the crinkles and screeches of it folding over. 

“No going back now, huh?” Tadashi’s voice shakes ever so slightly.

A section is unclipped and combed through. He watches Kei bite his lip in the mirror and almost misses when the blond replies.

“I mean, we _could_ wash it out right now, but it’ll be paler than the rest and that’ll bother you more than what we’re going for, so why not keep going?”

Tadashi hums. His bouncing leg slows its rhythm. The song changes into another 80s track, but he can’t find it in himself to tease Kei again. Bopping his head, he takes careful note of the soft lilting behind him, catching fragments here and there. Kei’s slightly off-tune, but his voice is warm and makes Tadashi suddenly want to do something very stupid and _very_ tempting.

“Have you thought about what colour you’re gonna dye it?”

_Oh, thank God._ Tadashi twists one of the rings on his fingers while he scrambles for an answer.

“Uhh...pink?”

Kei pauses. Blinks. Resumes with an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

Tadashi’s jaw drops. “W-what does _that_ mean?”

Kei shrugs. Avoids his eyes.

“Nothing.” 

This is Kei-speak for, “ _everything_.”

Tadashi clicks his tongue. “So unsupportive. I lay my heart and soul on this bathroom counter and you _judge_ me? For shame.”

Kei’s hands drop to his sides and he glares at him in the mirror. There’s a tinge to his cheeks but Tadashi quickly passes that off as the chemicals’ fault. His mouth opens––probably to defend himself or to weakly tell Tadashi to _shut up_ ––but Tadashi beats him to it.

“No! Nope! Don’t try to backtrack.” Tadashi schools his features into mock-disappointment. “You’ve hurt my feelings, Tsukki. You know what you have to do now.”

“Tadash––”

“I’m not changing my hair unless you do!” He leans forward and snatches up the bottle of pink dye. “I think hot pink will suit you, don’t you?”

He’s expecting Kei to outright refuse, probably threaten to abuse his power as an amateur hairstylist _again_ , but instead, when Tadashi leans his head back to meet Kei’s eyes face-to-face, he’s greeted with a look he would go as far as to say is _soft_ . Affectionate. Downright _smitten_ , if it wasn’t, of course, Tadashi’s _best friend_ who would _never ever_ like him that way. The way he wishes he did.

“Fine,” Kei says. 

Tadashi blinks. Kei takes his face and turns it to face the mirror, twirling the next section of his hair around his fingers before slathering on the bleach mix. Tadashi wonders if he just dreamt that, but the faint smudges on his chin say otherwise. He hopes Kei is too preoccupied to notice the red burning across his cheeks.

Kei finishes up a few songs later, taking a step back to admire his work before setting the bowl of bleach mix down on the toilet seat and peeling off the gloves.

Tadashi leans forward and rests his chin on the back of the chair. He fusses with the bun separating his untouched hair from the rest. “How long should I wait before washing it out, again?”

“Box says thirty minutes.”

“So...an hour, really.”

Kei snorts and shakes his head. He slides to the floor and leans back against the bathtub, poking Tadashi’s leg with his foot until he sighs and joins him on the floor.

Careful not to jostle his hair too much, Tadashi turns his head to look at Kei. The latter checks his notifications, scrolls through the team group chat to antagonize their fellow third years, sends a thumbs-up emoji to his mom, while Tadashi studies how his hair curls around the stem of his glasses. How his hair is darker at the nape of his neck. How a stretch of it lies flat where his glasses sit during games. 

“You thinking all of it or just a little part?”

Kei’s brows furrow but his voice is light. “The hell are you talking about.”

Tadashi ignores him. 

“Dyeing it _all_ hot pink might be overkill. Bit of an eyesore, maybe?”

Kei doesn’t answer for a few moments. And then—he clicks off his screen and sets his phone down, turning his torso so his arm rests on the edge of the bathtub. He points a raised brow at Tadashi.

“Show me what you think would look good.”

Tadashi’s breath stutters. There’s a kind of nervousness in those words that make him wonder...but _no_. No, it has to be the bleach doing this. No other possible explanation.

“Y-you sure?”

“I trust your judgement.” 

Tadashi almosts laughs.

“Well,” he begins, hands fluttering around the ends of Kei’s hair. “Pink frosted tips would look cool––”

Kei takes his hands.

“Try again. I’m not doing frosted tips.”

A moment passes slowly. There’s a tremor in their hands and Tadashi can’t tell if it’s him or Kei. He releases.

Tadashi gulps. Hesitant, he runs a hand through Kei’s fringe. 

“Y-you could do something like Noya-san’s hair? In the front?”

Kei tilts his head, thinking it over.

“Hm, maybe.” He meets Tadashi’s eyes and _oh_ , he is suddenly _very_ aware of how close they are. “What else are you thinking of?”

_Alarm bells, big red buttons, flashing lights_ , Tadashi lists off in his head. _You._

His hands settle at the back of Kei’s neck, ghosting his skin. Kei shivers. His eyes dip. Tadashi’s close.

When he pictured finally kissing his best friend, he thought it should be under the stars. There should be no car engines revving or teammates heckling each other, just the rustle of wind in the trees, the distant buzz of the electricity pole down the block from their houses. Not too hot out or too cold, the grass should be cool but not dewy, the sky clear and sparkling.

Sitting on the floor of the cramped bathroom next to his room—the stinging scent of chemicals burning faintly in the air, ridiculous 80s music streaming out of Kei’s shitty speakers—Tadashi forgets that picture. He banishes it from his mind. This moment is _real_ , it carries weight in his hands. How could he ever want something different from this? 

Kei brushes his thumb across his cheek and kisses him softly. Tadashi grips his collar and pulls him closer. His hands tangle in blond curls and he feels Kei grin—a chuckle in his throat that warms Tadashi’s chest—and suddenly he is laughing. He is pressing kisses to his best friend’s face and he thinks he might never breathe again if it isn’t with him. Kei tucks some loose hairs behind his ear, holds the back of his neck and kisses life and electricity into his skin with a reverence that says, _it’s you, it’s you, it’s you._

––

“Kei?”

“Hm?”

“Did you kiss me to get out of dyeing your ha––”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...Did...did you just do it a _gain_ ––”

**Author's Note:**

> u can find me at [bipercykin](https://bipercykin.tumblr.com/) !!


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